Desperate Times, Desperate Measures
by Lord Zeuss
Summary: LSFE K2. Kuryama Nari struggles to life on the Peragus mining station only to learn that the Sith are hunting her. Thrown in with eclectic allies, she is forced to extreme measures in order to survive.


Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Written by Lord Zeuss

Kolto was an odd thing.

It was the most potent healing substance known to galactic science, a miracle of the natural world. Kolto had a broad spectrum of uses, including battle-meds, therapeutic prescriptions, and life-support in hospitals and infirmaries all over the galaxy. Floating in a kolto tank had the peculiar effect of making one feel as if he or she were weightless. This odd sensation - or more accurately put, lack of sensation - gave to those immersed in the healing liquid a dreamlike calm.

Kuryama had no way of knowing how long she had been floating inert inside the cylindrical kolto tank, dreaming vivid and bizarre dreams as she slipped in and out of consciousness. She had been badly injured by something, bad things had happened to the ship on which she been a passenger. But her memory beyond these general ideas was confused and unclear, events recalled as muddled visions and scrambled auditory sensations.

She felt completely relaxed, not a muscle in her body was tensed. The kolto suspended her body perfectly, it was effortless to simply sleep on. During those brief times of consciousness, Kuryama was too lulled by the relaxation of the kolto tank to try and remember what was going on and why she had been so critically injured. Going back to blissful sleep was nearly irresistible.

_**Awaken.**_

The commanding thought that echoed through her mind was not her own.

Compelled to obey, Kuryama stirred within the kolto tank. Her eyes opened, her fingers and arms flexed experimentally. Moving her own muscles again was painful, but a welcome pain. It was the pain of life.

Groggily, she reached her hands up to hit the emergency release valve at the top of the tank. The bottom of the glass tank opened and she fell to the floor as the kolto rushed out. Exhausted from the exertion, she sank into unconsciousness once more.

* * *

Kuryama woke some time later, how much later was impossible to tell. She was lying naked on the floor of a medical bay, an empty kolto tank hung above her.

Something was fundamentally different, something inside of her. Her memory of the events leading up to her immersion in the kolto tank were still incomprehensible, but she felt undeniably changed.

Confused, she looked about. There was nothing remarkable about her surroundings. Half a dozen people floated in identical kolto tanks around the medical bay she found herself in. Unlike, however, they appeared to be dead.

Dead...

Realization hit her like an avalanche.

The part of herself that had been lifeless for over a decade was no longer dead. She felt the Force within her once more. It seemed impossible but it was undeniable. No longer did she feel the hollow void in her soul or the constant, aching pain of Malachor.

Experimentally, Kuryama focused her attention on a random object - a forgotten medical tray - and tried to lift it into the air. Exhilarating as interacting with her surroundings through the Force again was, she quickly realized, due to the amount of effort it took for her to suspend the tray more than a few inches off the floor, that she was seriously out of practice and would need to do a substantial amount of relearning.

Her feelings of confusion and uncertainty were washed away by the euphoria of feeling the Force. It had been over a decade since the Malachor V massacre. She had spent the first few years of her exile wallowing in the misery of being without the Force, letting her apathy consume her. Eventually, however, she learned to cope with her loss and had accepted a life of traveling the galaxy. To feel the Force again brought her such hope as she had not had since joining Revan in the defense of the Republic during the Mandalorian War.

Having taken her moment, Kuryama turned her mind to the affairs at hand. She knew precious little of the events that had led up to her current situation. What she did know was that there were a half dozen dead people in kolto tanks in this particular medical bay. She now wanted to know why.

She strode over to what looked to be an entrance and opened the door. Just outside stood two six-legged droids that appeared to be outfitted for mining labor. They were spider-like and sported a pair of integrated blasters on their frontal arms. When the door opened, one of them wheeled about to face Kuryama.

Something tickled at the back of her thoughts. It took her a second to recognize what it was; the Force. It was telling her something she couldn't understand anymore. But she knew what it must be saying: this droid was dangerous.

In that split second, as Kuryama made a rapid judgment, she let her instincts kick in and carry her in an evasive maneuver. She was fast, but not quite fast enough to avoid catching a blaster bolt in the shoulder as she flew backwards.

The mining droid started adjusting its aim to take a shot at her on the floor where she had landed. Clutching her wounded shoulder, Kuryama nevertheless was not late in her next reaction. She kicked her legs and swung out of the way of the droid's blaster fire, the crimson bolts leaving a trail of smoking craters on the floor where she had lain only a second before. With precious little time to spare, she leapt up and pressed the door controls to close it and keep the droid away from her.

The door slid shut.

Safe for the moment, Kuryama inspected her wounded shoulder. The gash where the blaster bolt had grazed her was deeper than she would have liked and was bleeding all over her arm, just starting to drip on the floor. Invoking a healing trance was out of the question, it would require long-forgotten skills and methods.

Holding the gash closed with her hand, Kuryama searched the medical bay until she found a pair of battle-meds. She oozed the kolto over her wound, letting the healing salve stop the bleeding and bearing the stinging pain of the meds' concentrated solution. In a minute pseudo-tissue had formed and closed up the injury.

As she wiped the blood from her arm, Kuryama realized it would definitely be in her best interest to find some clothes. Unfortunately, a search of the medical bay turned up nothing more substantial than some women's kerekini underwear.

At least it was a start.

* * *

The hallways leading out the back of the med bay contained no other droids. Kuryama, ill-equipped to handle them, was thankful for their absence. Though they were empty of droids, they were also empty of anything that might have been useful to her, so she moved on. She encountered absolutely no people, no one of any species.

The place - a mine she guessed, based on the layout of the corridors - was inhabited only by murderous droids.

The door to a morgue loomed on her left. Inside, she found a dozen or so bodies lying on tables, having not yet been stripped of their possessions. Kuryama was hesitant to steal from the dead, but a consideration of her odds of survival without some means to defend herself quickly made up her mind. A sword she found on one of the bodies she slung over her shoulder to carry on her back, and she strapped a holstered blaster to her thigh. Some spare kolto injectors she turned up were wrapped with medical tape around a bicep. All the corpses' clothing, unfortunately, was too badly burned and mangled to be of any limited use to her. They all appeared to have been liberally splashed with poorly-aimed blaster fire.

As Kuryama turned to leave, her heart jumped into her throat when a corpse she'd overlooked abruptly sat up. Her pulse slowed its breakneck pace when she realized that the old woman sitting on the table was not actually dead. Her simple, drab robes bore no signs of blaster damage and she moved without obvious injury. A survivor.

"Find what you're looking for amongst the dead?" The old woman asked. Her weathered, raspy voice resonated on a deep level with Kuryama, familiar somehow.

"Almost," Kuryama answered, not sure what to make of the woman before her. "Who are you?"

"I am Kreia," the woman answered, simply.

"Can you tell me what this place is?" Kuryama asked her.

"We are at the Peragus mining facility. I found you on board a Republic cruiser, the _Harbinger_, and attempted to carry you away to safety when the Sith attacked my vessel, forcing me here. We were both critically injured during the attack, and events have played out here that were beyond my control." As Kreia explained, Kuryama recognized where she had heard that voice.

"You were the one who spoke to my unconscious mind through the Force, commanding me to awaken," she comprehended.

"Ahh, yes, I had hoped to be able to reach you. Apparently I was successful."

"So are you a Jedi, then?" Kuryama asked.

Kreia's response was cryptic. "If I once carried that title it was not who nor what I was. I am and always will be simply Kreia. Such titles as 'Jedi' are irrelevant."

"So why did you reach out to me?"

"For the same reason the Sith nearly succeeded in killing the both of us. Because you are the last of the Jedi."

Kuryama's suspicions flared. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I know many things. The Civil War decimated the Jedi Order; at the war's end barely more than a hundred Jedi remained. And gradually they too disappeared. Now only you are left behind. I have been searching for you for a long time; longer than you know. It is fortunate that I find you now, for the Sith are close behind."

Kreia's explanation offered more doubt than insight, but made sense on a fundamental level. Facts began to stand out in Kuryama's mind while she analyzed the situation as she saw it: She was being pursued by the Sith, who were under the belief that she was indeed the last Jedi. The thought of being the last Jedi Knight in the galaxy was both terrifying and comforting at the same time. But it was almost worth it just to feel the Force in her again.

"I'm no Jedi. I have no wish to even to be associated with them any longer. They cast me out, a long time ago, for doing my duty. I am finished with the Jedi," she told Kreia.

"The Sith will not appreciate such petty resolutions. They see you as a Jedi, and hunt you as one. What you think or believe makes no difference to them," Kreia admonished her, scorn not entirely absent from her voice.

"Fine. I'm a Jedi, then," Kuryama replied, sensing a lost cause with that line of argument. "How far behind do you think the Sith are?"

"I do not know. They may take weeks, or merely hours. But come they will. For you." Kuryama's threat-sense was tingling again, not nearly so intense and acute as before with the droid. She knew what it meant this time; Kreia was telling the truth, a much larger threat loomed. She needed to know her options.

"Is there anyone left in this facility?" She asked.

Kreia's answer - as was becoming the norm with her - was roundabout. "There is much death in this place. A mass slaughter has taken place here. Though I do sense that one remains; a captive, confined in a cell. Can you not sense him?"

"Well, no, actually. It's been... a long time since I've felt the Force. My senses are out of tune. It will take time and practice for them to return." Kreia raised her eyebrow beneath the heavy hood that hung over her face at Kuryama's straightforward admission. "Do you think he might be able to help us?" She asked.

"I do not know. I know only that he is there, and that he is alive," Kreia responded.

"I will see if I can find him, then. See what he knows, if anything."

"You may want to extend your search to some clothes," sarcasm was evident in Kreia's tone, "if only to make proper first impressions."

Kuryama was not in the least bit bothered by the old woman's snide remark. "I assure you, my search already includes clothes."

"Then I will leave you to the exploration of this place."

* * *

Droids were everywhere. In the hallways Kuryama found herself in, mining droids scuttled about like the beetles they were designed to resemble. Beetles with blaster cannons and bludgeoning arms. They were relatively easy to dispatch with a few shots from her scavenged blaster pistol. But it was not the most accurate of weapons, and she was often forced to use her sword to chop off their sensor stalks, leaving them unable to target her and effectively crippled.

Kreia had said that there was a survivor in the facility. A captive confined in a cell. Therefore, the best place to start looking for this potential ally was in the brig. A map of the facility Kuryama found in the security office down the hall from the morgue directed her to the administrative level; the brig was just off the command center.

As she approached the door to the command center, Kreia's voice sounded in her mind again, as it had while she was unconscious in the kolto tank.

_**Be careful. There is much energy beyond this door, yet it stems from nothing that lives. Many machines inhabit the room ahead.**_

"I can't sense them," Kuryama said aloud.

_**Because it has been far too long since you tried. Block out all of your sensory perceptions, and let the Force wash over you. You will feel them; tiny discharges of energy coloring the Force currents.**_

As Kreia instructed, she shut her eyes and concentrated on nothingness. Slowly, the ambient sounds of the building faded into silence in her mind. And then there was nothing; not the emptiness to which she had become accustomed, but the absence of any and all distractions. And then she felt it.

Into her open mind flowed a stream of Force perception. She could sense them now; they stood out like ripples in a pond. She tried to count the epicenters of the disturbances, coming up with a number of more than forty before she lost her concentration and was thrust back into physical reality.

In her current state, Kuryama knew she couldn't take on forty armed droids. Skilled as she was, she didn't have the means to come out on top in such a fight. She needed to figure out a way to deal a large amount of damage to the broadest possible target. To do that she would have to come up with a strategy to deal with her lack of combat materials.

Or not.

She noticed a body draped against the wall to the side of the door with a stealth field generator belt.

A plan - a risky one that depended largely upon her recuperating Force powers - began to take shape in her mind.

* * *

The opening door immediately caught the attention of the dozens of droids in the command center. Those closest swiveled their sensor stalks and brought their crude blaster cannons to bear. But the door opened merely to reveal an empty hallway. Confused, some of the closer droids scuttled nearer to the open doorway, poking blasters about in bewilderment.

Those droids closest to the hall were suddenly and violently tossed backward by an invisible force, flying into their fellows and fracturing their hard exoskeletons. Many of the other droids opened fire at the empty hallway, but their blaster bolts found nothing but thin air. Just as unexpectedly, a blue lance of electricity shot forth from empty space to find another droid. Its internal components and circuitry were fried by the blast in nanoseconds. As the rest of the droids started to react to the attack, the blue bolts arced from the destroyed droid to others, demolishing a dozen before the arc terminated abruptly.

Mining droids were now buzzing about furiously, trying to figure out what was happening. But their narrow command sets told them only that no targets were present and no problem existed. What could only be described as a droid sixth sense told them that something was wrong, that a problem should exist and that targets should present themselves. But despite their scans, they found nothing.

Minutes passed, and the situation did not change. The droids still had no targets.

Suddenly, their processors registered an internal power failure in accordance with an isolated override command. The mining droids had only microseconds to record the power failure before the final electronic pulse completed its circuit and their processors went dead.

* * *

Kuryama surprised herself with her extremely successful use of Force electricity. She could only sense the basest of things with her Force perceptions but some of her other skills had come back to her in full force. The sensation of imbalance was disorienting. It reminded her of being stripped of the Force at Malachor; a moment she preferred not to think on.

She had been correct in assuming that the command center would have an emergency override command for the droids in case of extreme instances of binary decay, or what programmers called 'rampancy'. Rampancy had several symptoms including rogue behaviors, hostility towards other beings, and, in the case of protocol droids, malevolence. A rampant droid was exceedingly dangerous and research on rampancy highly illegal in Republic space. While Kuryama didn't think these droids were rampant per se - they were behaving in too coordinated a manner for that - she was grateful that she wouldn't have to deal with them anymore thanks to the safeguard.

She wondered why the miners hadn't been able to activate the override and save themselves.

The brig was easy to find, just inside one of the doors that led off the command center; a design she didn't think very security-minded.

Just as Kreia had said, there was a survivor; locked in a force cage. He didn't look like a miner, in fact he looked more like a smuggler than anything else. His hair was disheveled, he wore casual clothing including a brown jacket that looked like it doubled as protective armor, and he peered about scowling in perpetual suspicion at everything.

"That's a nice outfit. Did they repeal the miners' dress code while I've been in here?" The prisoner said, leering at her as she entered the brig. Kuryama was suddenly glad he was behind a force cage.

"Who are you?" She asked, crossing her arms over her mostly bare chest.

"Rand, Atton Rand," he answered, mimicking a popular holovid character.

"If I ask you why you're in this station's brig, can I expect an honest answer?"

"Ah, security got all up in a huff about me violating some arbitrary regulation or something like that. To tell you the truth, I think they were just making it up as they went along. It's been pretty boring sitting in here these last _four_ days all by my lonesome. But now you show up in your underwear and things just might get fun again, if you know what I mean." His insinuation was stifling.

"Well I've got a news flash for you. In any other situation I'd be perfectly happy to leave you here to rot. However, as it turns out, it's in my best interest to help you." She leveled her gaze and cheerless eyes at Atton. "Because it so happens that everyone on this station is dead, the Sith are on the way, whoever is controlling the mining droids is undoubtedly still around, and if either of us are going to make it off this station alive we're going to have to work together."

"Okay, fine. I can live with that. Nobody's bothered to come in here and check on me for days, so I guess I buy your story. And if everyone _is_ dead besides you, how do you expect to get off this rock?" Atton asked.

"First of all, you are going to tell me, from your point of view, exactly what happened over the last week," Kuryama responded.

"Do you want the full version or the outline?" He chuckled.

Kuryama frowned.

"Never mind. I got stuck here about a week ago by some spice smuggler who thought I was making off with his goods. As punishment, he stuck me on some random freighter headed out into the middle of nowhere; took all my credits too. So then I wind up here when the security guys inspect the freighter and find me tied up in a secret smugglers hold. Naturally, they think I'm a criminal and toss me straight in the brig to wait until a Republic cruiser can come by and pick me up," he explained, and with a self-satisfied smirk added: "Satisfied?"

"Based on the condition of that lone pazaak deck I'd have to say there is some credence to that story," she conceded.

"So do you have a plan or am I better off twiddling my thumbs waiting to starve to death?"

"If you'll stop talking for one second I'll tell you. I believe the ship I was brought here in may still be docked in the hangar. Therefore, assuming you have piloting skills, it should be a simple matter of fighting our way past any droids which may be around and getting to the ship."

"Okay, sounds good. Aside from the dozen other catches which I'm sure you haven't mentioned for convenience's sake." His cynical remark tried Kuryama's tolerance.

"If you want a catch, here's one: I'm a former Jedi Knight. Satisfied?" She echoed his earlier delivery of that same last word exactly.

Atton winced.

"Kek! I knew this was too good to be true! Some hot chick shows up in lingerie who wants to fight through a crowd of crazed droids in some half-baked scheme to escape a ghost mine and she just _happens_ to be a Jedi! Darn my luck!" Atton grumbled.

"Like I said; if you've got a problem with things, I can always forget I found you and take my chances on my own."

"For a Jedi you're pretty heartless."

"I said I was a _former_ Jedi; I don't believe in them anymore. Now I'm just me. And yes, I do have a certain amount of control over the Force if that was going to be your next question. That's how I found you here, I might add, so if I detect ingratitude you're definitely staying." Kuryama was getting tired of these roundabout negotiations with a hostage. "So what is it, yes or no?"

"Look, even though I don't exactly trust every Jedi out there, I really need to get out of here. Just let me out of here and do whatever it is you want me to do, please?" Atton's placating tone was as false as any Hutt's smile, but Kuryama could tell he'd do as he was told.

"Alright, fine. I'll open your force cage," she relented.

"Yes! You won't regret this!"

When the field came down, Atton looked like he was ready to start kissing the floor. Then he caught another eyeful of her and his arrogance returned in force.

"So... are you sure you don't want me to help you out of that kerekini? Looks pretty tight on you."

His leering, indecent remark was one too many.

Without warning, Kuryama slammed her fist into his face, not as hard as she could but hard enough to send him sprawling to the floor with a bloodied nose.

"Just so you know," she informed him, "I don't really care how much you stare at me. Galaxy knows I've been through far worse. But you can keep your snide insinuations and remarks to yourself."

Atton staggered to his feet massaging his nose, much subdued.

"Okay, lead the way," he managed.

* * *

Kuryama eventually found adequate clothing in a footlocker while searching an auxiliary room just off the control center. While she changed she had Atton do a number on the facility's computer systems to figure out where her ship was. It was only an ill-fitting set of greasy work clothes, but she didn't care. Another pair of blasters surfaced from the locker as well, expanding her little arsenal to a degree. She also found a small knapsack in which to hold her growing inventory.

When she approached, Atton didn't look like he was getting anywhere with the computer.

"What's going on?" She asked as she drew near to the terminal where he sat.

"We've got more problems," he grumbled. "There's a Republic ship coming in to dock, but it's not responding to any of the station's automated hailing signals. In fact, sensors aren't picking up any life signs at all aboard that ship. It's like it's flying itself, but that's impossible."

"Say what?"

"I said there's no life signs on this incoming ship. Almost like it's being piloted by a ghost."

Kuryama's blood ran cold. _That's because it is, or it might as well be._ The Sith had found her.

"Have you located the hangar bay yet?" Kuryama asked, trying to keep desperation out of her voice and not quite succeeding.

"Yeah, that was the easy part. I had to disable a couple of security measures remotely; not the easiest thing to do from a second-rate system like this," he replied, pleased with himself.

"We need to leave right now," Kuryama urged, prodding Atton.

"You not friends with the Republic?" He asked innocently.

"That's not the Republic coming in to dock. It may be a Republic ship, but it is not the Republic. It's the Sith." Atton's eyebrow raised in worry. "If we stay here much longer they'll find us. And if they find us they'll crush us, grind us into tiny pieces, and blast us into oblivion. We don't want that."

"Alright, I get your point. Hangar bay's down the elevators. Let's go!"

"Catch!" Kuryama tossed Atton the pair of blaster pistols she'd found as they started off towards the turbolifts at the far end of the command deck.

Kuryama's Force perception alerted her to movement within the turbolift shaft; something was coming up in the turbolift. Her senses pinged alarm as the doors began to open, revealing a steel-gray, biped battle droid wielding a pair of high-end blaster pistols. The red sensor nodes that served as its eyes glowed threateningly.

It leveled a blaster at Atton and fired.

In the split-second that mattered, Kuryama tossed herself at Atton, flinging him out of the way and catching the blaster bolt on her shoulder. The red beam sliced across her shoulder, leaving a centimeter-deep incision.

As they both hit the floor, the droid tried to adjust its aim on Atton, but Kuryama was blocking its shot.

"Irritated Demand: Master, please get out of the way so I may proceed in terminating hostile targets."

Kuryama groaned. It was an HK-class assassin droid. They were doggedly persistent and darned annoying, but they could also be extremely dangerous to those designated as its targets.

"Why are you calling me 'Master'?" She asked the droid.

"Confused Answer: Why, Master, I was sent to protect you from those who wished you harm."

"That's not much of an explanation. Does that explain why you're pointing the blaster at me?"

"Irritated Answer: Master, I am not aiming at you. I am attempting to terminate a hostile target. You are in my way."

"Are you the one responsible for killing everyone here?"

"Convoluted Explanation: Master, the miners wanted to sell you to the Exchange. I could not let that happen, and was forced to take action. A series of events unfolded in which the miners were all inevitably trapped in the dormitories and suffocated on toxic gases. I instructed the mining droids to 'mine' any organics that might have somehow escaped their fate. Retrospective Addendum: Your awakening in the kolto tank was unexpected, and I was unable to prevent the mining droids in the immediate area from carrying out their assigned instructions.

"Authoritative Command: Now, Master, you should return to your kolto tank and await proper rescue, which is undoubtedly on the way as we speak."

Kuryama had no idea who had sent this droid or what its true purpose was, but she did know one thing; she was not going to do as it asked.

"I'm getting off this station whether you like it or not," she told the droid resolutely.

"Threat: If you do not comply I will be forced to extreme measures in which I cannot assure your total and complete health. Unnecessary Elaboration: Dismemberment and torture may be necessary if you refuse."

As she'd been talking, Kuryama had slowly inched herself into a position from which she could easily spring. When the HK droid made its threat, she bounded off the floor with a leap, dragging Atton along with her while at the same time dropping a sonic grenade looted from the security office at the droid's feet. To her surprise, she'd accidentally put an unexpected amount of Force energy into her jump, and she and Atton were catapulted backward as the HK droid let loose with a stream of blaster fire.

Kuryama and Atton hit the ground shooting.

The HK droid ducked and weaved to avoid their return fire, continuing its feverish assault as it moved. Kuryama dove for cover behind a desk while making a blind shot from her side. Her seemingly stray shot took out a light fixture which came crashing down on the HK droid, distracting it for a moment. She wondered if that shot had been Force-assisted as well.

She heard the sound of Atton's blasters from across the room where he had taken refuge from the crimson stream of blaster fire. He wasn't even trying to hit the HK droid. Instead, he was trying to make it dodge in a manner that would allow her to get a clean shot; corralling his enemy into allied gunfire. The Mandalorians had used such tactics to great effect against Jedi in the war, and it was chilling to see them in action once more.

But Atton's uncanny skill paid off when he maneuvered the HK droid directly into her line of fire. The droids evasion protocols told it to dodge, to duck, to leap, to do anything to avoid becoming the target but there was nothing for it to do. Trapped by the very cover in which it had taken shelter from Atton's attack it could not avoid Kuryama's deadly strike.

Instead of aiming dead-center at its chest, which she knew would be heavily armored, she took careful aim for its joints; the shoulders, elbows, and knees. Within seconds her precise, surgical shots dismembered the mechanical body, leaving it disarmed and incapacitated.

Kuryama strode up to the droid and fired twice at its neck, severing vital conduits and control nodes; effectively killing the droid. Pulling the sword from her back, she cracked open the hard shell of the droid's head to expose its memory matrices and processor cores. She pulled the memory units from their sockets and stuck them in her knapsack. She wanted to know exactly what it had done here and why. She, among others, deserved to know the truth.

"Nice work," Atton acknowledged. "Anything you want to fill me in on?"

Kuryama shook her head. "You know about as much as me."

"Great. So we should expect more random attacks by equally inexplicable assassin droids?" He grumbled.

"No. Expect Sith," she returned, without a trace of irony in her voice.

"Then let's go already."

At that moment, a shudder passed through the facility. Atton cursed in displeasure and Kreia's voiced echoed in Kuryama's mind as loud as the roar of a rancor.

_**The Sith are here. Go on ahead of me, I will meet you at the ship. There are things I must take care of, now go!**_

Kuryama, already knowing what the Republic ship portended, needed no urging to flee.

* * *

Very few droids were left to attempt to stop Kuryama and Atton as they made their way to the hangar where the freighter _Ebon Hawk_ awaited. Kuryama was almost tempted to let her guard down if not for the constant pinging of alarm from her Force senses. Being unpracticed, she couldn't tell the nature of the threat that seemed to loom at every corner, only that it was there. Common sense told her it must be the close proximity of the Sith.

When they made it to the hangar bay control room, Kuryama's Force perceptions shifted in focus. Instead of sensing an all-encompassing threat, it was now focused on three distinct points in time and space; points directly behind her. She whirled about and saw for a moment the shimmering of a figure cloaked by a stealth field generator.

It all suddenly made sense.

That was why the station's sensors hadn't detected anyone alive on board. Stealth field generators not only made the wearer invisible to sight, but effectively masked all of their vital life signs. The Sith were already crawling over the entire facility, hiding in plain sight.

A lightning-fast maneuver of her arms that surprised herself pulled her sword free and struck out at the wavering patch of nothingness in front of her. The blade impacted something solid which deflected the blow as she had expected. The stealth field dropped, revealing the adversary beneath.

A tall, muscular-looking figure stood before her. Dressed in black and silver armor and a faceless mask, and wielding a quarterstaff, everything about it spoke of deadly skill and lethal intent. This was a Sith Assassin.

Kuryama registered the point of the assassin's quarterstaff flying at her head. With a split-second to react, she brought the blade of her sword up to knock aside the blow. As the point whistled by just inches from her head, peripheral vision alerted her to the blur of another stealth field. Blaster bolts started flying past her at the one visible enemy as Atton trained his aim at the attackers. Kuryama dove for the still-concealed second figure, chopping with an over-handed swing. The second assassin's stealth field flickered and died.

As her first attacker lunged for her, she pivoted on her right foot and smashed her left heel into the enemy's faceplate, sending him crashing to the floor. Preserving her momentum, she threw herself into flying somersault to intercept the third shimmering figure as it crept up on Atton, who was now taking shots at the second assassin. Holding her sword point-down in midflight, she sank it into the assassin's collar, driving down until it pierced his heart. With a terrible groan the assassin crumpled to the ground.

The first and second assassins now came at her in unison. She was able to deflect one's spinning quarterstaff but not the other, it hit her squarely in the jaw and knocked her to the floor. Her sword went flying and she heard the sound of a metal blade being drawn from its sheath. The first was about to plunge a ten inch long dagger straight into her heart. With not a moment to spare, she snatched the blaster from her belt and fired three shots. Her crimson blaster bolts decapitated the Sith.

As the last assassin dove for her, Kuryama rolled out of the way and caught hold of his quarterstaff. Without thinking, she sent a jolt of Force energy through the staff that momentarily stunned her adversary. Kuryama took full advantage of his brief lapse of control and made a Force-assisted backflip, cracking the opposite end of the quarterstaff up into his chin and shattering the jaw. With full control of the staff, she brought it around in a brutal strike. The assassin's head snapped around, vertebrae in his neck fracturing and severing the spinal column.

The last assassin fell to the ground. Kuryama shot him twice in the head where he lay, to make sure he was dead. With a quick glance at Atton she signaled to keep moving to the ship. It would be better if they got off the station sooner rather than later.

As they ran for the ship, Kuryama was suddenly overcome with blinding pain.

It was not from any injury she had sustained from the fight with the assassin droid, or the Sith assassins, she couldn't begin to fathom what its source was. All she knew was it made her feel like her arm was being doused in molten durasteel. Her vision blurred with the intensity of the pain that tore through her.

She felt herself moving. Atton was dragging her towards the waiting cargo ramp of the freighter.

The pain began to subside, diminishing to a dull burn in her right hand. Her vision cleared. The first thing that met her eyes was a T3 utility droid. It beeped curiously at her, identifying itself as T3-M4. From the cobwebs of her memory she summoned a vague concept that she had seen this droid before.

Kuryama started taking in her surroundings. She was lying in what had to be the freighter's main hold. A combination table-holostation stood in the center and a variety of rooms branched off from the perimeter of the circular chamber. Relief flooded into her. In a few minutes she would be off of Peragus and be one step ahead of the Sith. Atton hadn't gone anywhere yet, he was still hovering over her looking concerned. She realized she must look in terrible condition.

All of a sudden, the HK droid's voice came over the ship's intercom. "Mocking Statement: You have just made the last mistake of your life. Goodbye, Master. Your corpse will have to do."

The cargo ramp closed behind them and they heard the ventilation system hiss to life. Kuryama caught the scent of honey and sulfur. It was an odor that took her back to the grisly battles on Dxun, battles doomed to failure that she had to fight anyway. The life-support system was venting toxic gas, a chemical agent devised to disintegrate living flesh.

Frantically, Kuryama looked about the main hold for what they needed most if they were to stay alive. Through an open door she glimpsed possible salvation. But as she tried to scramble to her feet, moving her right arm brought on a wave of pain that made it impossible to for her to leave the floor. Through gritted teeth and paralyzing pain, she snarled two words at Atton.

"Shower! Now!"

For his part, Atton recognized her urgency and lifted her by the left shoulder and carry-dragged her into the small room.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He frantically asked as he pulled her into the tiny shower. His queries sounded to her like they were coming through a wall, muffled and nearly indistinct. The pain and the hissing of the vents occupied a larger part of her attention.

He had to know the danger.

"Tiocygen gas!" She managed to utter through her agony. Kuryama could see his eyes make the connection between the vents and the gas, but he still didn't understand why the shower was so critical, so vital to survival. Only she did.

"We need to get... water!"

She knew they had mere moment before their eyes started to burn from the fumes.

To his credit, Atton quickly figured out that she wanted him to turn the shower on and was immediately rewarded by a strong stream of warm water from the head. "What now?" He asked, looking for direction, unaware still of just what kind of danger they were in.

The pain subsided for a moment, allowing Kuryama to give him a brief overview of the enormity of the trouble they were in. "The ship is venting tiocygen gas into the holds. It will burn through our skin and melt us alive if we don't get very wet very fast. Water neutralizes the vapors but we have to get out of these clothes and into the water now!" Already she could feel her own eyes beginning to react to the poisonous fumes. "Tiocygen particles concentrate faster in clothing than in the air, it's our only chance!" She urged.

She could see Atton accept the truth when he started rubbing his eyes profusely. He promptly began unzipping his jacket.

Trying to be careful not to touch or even move her afflicted arm, Kuryama attempted to take off her appropriated shirt. Undressing single-armed, however, was difficult, especially when lying on the floor of a cramped space with her eyes tearing up. Atton had already stripped to the waist by the time she managed to get an arm out of its sleeve. Her vision was blurring, running together in a watery mess, effectively blinding her. Her hand accidentally jarred her other arm, sending a white-hot flare of agony through her. She cried out in pain and writhed about on the floor trying to comfort her arm, just a few feet away from the life-saving water, unable to help herself.

At this rate she would die, she had no chance. Too much gas was pumping into the ship's inner holds, the air became more concentrated with the gas with each passing moment. Her flesh was starting to sting from the gas molecules that had stuck in the fibrous material of her clothes. It was only a matter of time before it started searing through her skin and eating away at the raw tissue beneath.

The slow death of chemical incineration that tiocygen gas inflicted was excruciatingly painful on its victims; she was just beginning to feel its first stage. If not halted, the corrosive gas would burn away her skin and assault bare nerve endings, bombarding the brain with unbelievable amounts of pain. As it progressed further, the muscle tissue would begin to disintegrate, blood vessels would burst, and she would convulse uncontrollably, causing yet more pain.

A world of agony awaited her before she would be allowed to die as eventually the invasive gas would get into her skull and cause terminal cerebral hemorrhage.

Suddenly, there was a sharp tug on her shirt.

Through watery vision, she saw a shape above her - Atton she guessed - and felt her shirt torn off. Damp hands hastily pulled the borrowed pants from her legs and dragged her by the feet into the protective blanket of falling water provided by the shower.

Kuryama's burning flesh was immediately soothed by the contact of the cold water, her eyes came into focus and her mind returned to reasoned thought. Even the pain in her right arm was beginning to finally leave her. Her chest still stung, however. Stifling another cry of pain, she reached up with her left arm and ripped the contaminated kerekini from herself. Free from the last remnants of the persistent tiocygen gas, she relaxed under the shower's stream.

Kuryama looked up.

Atton was standing in the corner of the shower, completely naked and drenched.

"Thanks," she said in breathless gratitude.

"How long 'till the air thins?" was his only response.

* * *

It took almost an hour before Kuryama could safely say the air was thin enough to breathe. During that forty minutes they could do nothing except remain where they were, despite the danger of the Sith in the facility. They were forced to wait each agonizing minute in the _Ebon Hawk_'s shower, hiding from the deadly effects of the tiocygen gas.

She could easily tell that Atton was distinctly uncomfortable being naked in the shower with her. It obviously wasn't how he'd pictured such an event; forced out their clothes and into the shower to stay alive rather than for romance. He leaned in the corner with his arms crossed, scowling at the wall.

Kuryama tested her arm. It was sore and ached all over, but she could move it without doubling over in pain. She had scooted into a more comfortable position, sitting dead center of the stall to let the maximum amount of water pour on her. Her legs were crossed, and she rested her forearms on her thighs, assuming as relaxed a pose as she could.

Neither of them said anything for the first few minutes, both too shaken talk. But as time dragged on the silence became uncomfortable and awkward. Atton eventually broke the quiet with a question.

"How did you know about the gas?"

Kuryama winced. He'd asked a sensitive question, but there was nothing for it but to answer the truth. "I've seen it used before. On Dxun, against the Mandalorians."

Atton's eyebrow raised.

"Republic scientists were just starting to delve into the options of chemical warfare. This was without the approval of the Senate, but they did it nonetheless. The first thing they came up with was tiocygen. It was meant to be dispersed over Mandalorian camps, it's tiny particles would easily invade their armor and kill them," Kuryama continued.

Atton snorted in disregard.

"But nothing happened the way it was supposed to. There was an accident at a Republic staging ground and the gas was released. Hundreds died, and hundreds more were critically injured by the effects. The only thing that kept it from wiping out the whole camp," she turned her head to look straight at him, "was the rain. Hydro-oxygen particles somehow neutralize the volatile tiocygen. The scientists were stumped, and tiocygen was deemed too unstable and shelved."

"Well, tell me again why it was so important we take off our clothes?" He asked.

"Because tiocygen particles are sticky and they concentrate much faster in a fibrous material, such as clothing, than in air," Kuryama answered. "I have a feeling you know what I'm talking about, otherwise you wouldn't have done what you did."

"Hey, I hate dying as much as the next guy. And besides, you did me a favor, I owed you one back," he replied.

Kuryama sniffed the air, the odor of sulfur and honey was decaying rapidly. The gas was reverting to a harmless state in reaction to the oxygen in the air, much the same way it did at contact with water except the process was much slower. Stretching her limbs, she stood up and switched off the shower head.

"The air's safe," she proclaimed. Gingerly fingering her clothes, she found to her relief that they no longer burned to the touch. She and Atton hurriedly began dressing.

When they had just finished attiring themselves, Kuryama heard the sound of the cargo ramp opening. Spurred into action, she grabbed her fallen blaster and leaned around the corner to see who or what was coming onto the ship.

It was Kreia. And she was missing her right hand.

Kuryama's own right hand flashed with sympathetic pain as it became clear to her. Not only could she hear Kreia's thoughts, she also felt her pain. The pain of Kreia's hand being severed was what had incapacitated her.

They were linked by a Force bond the likes of which Kuryama had never seen before, and its implications frightened her.

"Kreia!" She exclaimed, too much wearing on her mind to say anything more.

"We must leave. The Sith are close behind," Kreia urged, quiet pain and urgency in her voice.

Without a second thought, Kuryama tapped the switch to shut the cargo ramp and yelled at Atton.

"Atton get us out of here!"

* * *

It took Atton a few minutes to get the _Ebon Hawk_'s engines fired up and ready to go, and by that time silver-armored Sith soldiers had begun to pour into the hangar bay. Kuryama remorselessly gunned them down with the ship's defense turrets as the ship finally lifted off the floor and made it into space.

A proximity alarm blared after two seconds of tranquility. Atton threw the ship into a bank but was unable to avoid being hit by the incoming turbolaser fire. The ship's shields buckled under the punishment but managed to hold.

"We can't take many more of those!" Atton shouted as the _Hawk_ shook from the impact.

"Get us into the asteroid field!" Kuryama ordered.

"That's no good! If they hit those fuel-soaked rocks the whole system will go up in flames, us along with it!"

She grimaced. There was no choice. "Do it anyway! We're already taking as much a chance! If they hit the mining facility, the explosion would be just as big and a lot quicker!"

Nodding grimly, Atton gunned the throttle, rocketing the _Ebon Hawk_ into the Peragus drift field, dodging asteroids as much as the turbolaser fire. The Republic cruiser was gunning for them with a vengeance, firing indiscriminately, uncaring of stray shots. Just as Atton predicted, those asteroids hit by enemy fire lit up like tiny novas. The detonations buffeted the ship, singeing exposed hull where the shields had already failed and lighting up yet more alarms.

At last, the _Hawk_ found an opening, a conduit to clear space. Atton powered up the afterburners and the ship screamed into the open.

And not one moment too soon.

While Atton hurriedly engaged the hyperspace drive, the Republic ship's cannons hit a large asteroid. The fuel deposits on the surface flash burned in less than a second, the massive explosion following an instant later. Like a shock-wave, the cloud of orange engulfed its nearest neighbors and ignited them as well. The whole field was lighting up in deadly fire, annihilating everything in its path.

Kuryama had one glimpse of the blazing inferno consuming the Peragus system. She saw the fires of the Sith's undying hatred for all Jedi devour another world.

Time ticked off another imperceptible moment and the _Hawk_'s hyperdrive kicked in.

The stars stretched. Space turned white.


End file.
